Star Wars Oneshots
by PipeLad
Summary: This will be my collection of Star Wars One-shots and one-off stories. Subjects of each will vary, all across all Star Wars timelines and EU. Let me know what y'all think of the stories, and be sure to review. All the stories will be rated M for possible language and violence. Have fun reading.
1. Chapter 1

A series of Star Wars One Shots

This is my newest outlet for writing, this 'story' will be a series of one-shots and one off stories, all of these will be star wars based. Expect them all to be rated M for possible language and violence. Leave a review and let me know what you think. A well liked character or story could be seen again. I hope y'all like these stories. This first story is of Lolsok, a Weequay Force sensitive man.

Stumbling through a haze of pitch black smoke a lone figure was illuminated for the briefest of moments by a sudden explosion. Dark eyes were visible for that moment, dark dead eyes that glinted only with the spark of rage. These eyes were framed by rough and wrinkled skin, obviously weathered and worn. The figure was clearly tall and muscular, and humanoid in stature, but his lipless face and weathered skin implied otherwise.

The figure righted himself and walked straight, every so often raising his glowing red blade and deflecting a stray blaster bolt. It seemed that he was paid little attention as he made his way across the war torn battlefield. All around him explosions were setting off, sending huge clods of dirt flying and propelling massive plumes of dust into the sky. It was hard to see through, but the screams and calls of the dying could be heard through the din of battle.

It had begun as just another battle between the Separatists and the Republic, but it had quickly devolved into brutal and unexpected combat all across the city. What neither the Separatists nor the Republic had taken into consideration was the presence of a third party on this world, and a powerful third party at that. Three days ago when the fighting had first started between the mechanical droid armies and the clone troopers of the Republic this third party had made itself known, ambushing both invading armies at once with devastating results.

This third party just so happened to be the private army of ex- Jedi Knight Rar Lolsok, a Weequay Jedi exiled from the Order. The army was powerful and efficient, a mixture of high quality and effective battle droids and many organics that Lolsok had called to his banner.

Raising the glowing red lightsaber with lightning fast reflexes and deflecting another stray shot the Weequay snarled. He had known it would only be a matter of time before the war reached him here, but he had hoped to build up his army even larger before it happened. But that was not to be. The war had come and he had been forced to deploy his army before it was ready. Had he had enough time he was sure that his army would have been able to conquer the planet and shortly after the system. That would give him the power he needed.

To his left the Weequay ex- Jedi saw two of his own troopers, organics dressed in all black armor, rise from cover and fire their rifles into the advancing mass of droids. To his right he could see three more of his troopers pinned down by heavy fire from the advancing clone army. His troopers were barely visible in the pitch black night, only visible by the light of the dozens of fires and the continuous explosions. Lolsok surveyed the battle quickly, and knew he needed to do something. His forces could not remain here, caught between the two powerful armies, or they would all be dead within minutes.

Raising his other hand, and clicking the communicator in it he spoke in a raspy and angry voice, "Pull back. All forces pull back. Regroup at the Supply Center." It angered him to retreat, but he knew it was necessary. He could regroup with his men and see how Captain Tavian had fared in his own assault on the invading armies.

Extinguishing his lightsaber and following his troops as they retreated from the hellish battlefield that was not much more than pockmarked craters and raging fires strewn with the corpses of the organic fallen and littered with the debris of the mechanical fallen. The battlefield had once been a forest, a massive and verdant forest with large hills and even larger clearings. This, however, was not the target of either the Separatist or the Republic forces. They had been fighting, going on three days now, to make their way to the capital city, Newsilver. Newsilver was what served as the administrative hub, and indeed the central focus of any happenings on the entire planet of Pehiri. Pehiri itself seemed to be nothing spectacular, it held no extraordinary resources or strategic value. It was simply a planet where nearly 12 billion beings called their home, most of them humans, but many of them not. And while Pehiri seemed to be an ordinary planet with nothing of incredible value to either side that was not strictly true.

Long ago, in an age nearly forgotten through the ravages of time and war, a school was built on Pehiri, a school for young Force sensitive beings to be trained in the arts of combat, deception, diplomacy, and many other disciplines. For centuries it was a place of learning and training for generations of Jedi. And what came along with being a Jedi Temple was the Temple Master, a Twi'lek by the name of Fimraso. A skilled swordsman and Jedi Fimraso's true skill laid in his artificing skills. He had devoted nearly his entire life as a Jedi to the creation of a single holocron, what was now a priceless relic to the Jedi Order. But even the Jedi Order did not know of the existence of this artefact, it had been wiped from their records by the very man who now sought it.

The knowledge of the holocron had been wiped completely from the galaxy, no written record of it existed nor did anyone except the one man know of it's existence or what it contained. It was this man, a tall man who walked with elegance and grace, who was leading the Separatist invasion of Pehiri, and who indeed was leading the entire Separatist movement. Count Dooku himself was on the planet, leading the assault, and he was none too happy about it. Three days of fighting and they hadn't even reached Newsilver, where the Temple was rumored to be. Thousands of droids had been destroyed thanks to the damned Republic Army and those black wearing troopers!

Letting his anger flow freely through himself the Count swung his lightsaber and decapitated another clone. The mysterious troopers clad in black armor had suddenly withdrawn from the fight, and he considered doing the same. These mysterious troopers angered him, they were skilled and deadly although not very many in number, but he did not know who led them or what cause they served. He had seen them gun down clone's just as he had seen them gun down his own droid army. Twirling around a blaster shot and looking up to the crest of the hill, where the mysterious troopers were currently retreating from, Count Dooku was puzzled. He was positive that he had seen a lightsaber, and a red lightsaber at that, but he could not see the lightsaber anymore nor could he see much of anything. Night had fallen and the two moons of Pehiri were dim and not in his favor. Signalling his own forces to retreat just as he illuminated the battlefield with bright blue lightning Dooku pondered what he had seen. One of the droids had reported a lightsaber wielding foe, but had not specified the color of the blade nor who the wielder was. He would have to investigate the issue more thoroughly.

Shutting off the pair of macrobinoculars as stabs of lightning filled the screen and replacing them in their pouch CT-7958, better known as Captain Crash, ordered the retreat of his own forces. He was the leader of the Republic forces on Pehiri, and he had gathered exactly the intelligence he needed. His cruiser the _Unrepentant Justice_ had been commanded to come to the system and engage a Separatist ship recorded travelling to here.

During this battle, the latest in a string of dozens of smaller engagements, had proven what he had come to suspect. Count Dooku himself was on planet. This was major news, and the Republic and Jedi Order would definitely need to know. Watching as the droids and the locals retreated into the safety of the forest the Captain ordered his men about, first recovering the wounded and dead and then salvaging any equipment. The Separatists would not be making any more progress tonight, and he was unsure about this local army. They seemed to attack out of nowhere, always ambushing and moving swiftly. Crash had decided upon arrival on Pehiri that the best course of action would be to harry the Separatists, who seemed to have a plan of some sort. And so Crash and his men had been leading strikes and ambushes of their own against the Separatists, hoping to whittle them down and delay them from accomplishing their goal, whatever it may be.

But now that he knew Dooku was on the planet some changes had to be made. He had no reinforcements left, and even his cruiser was running low on supplies. They had been embroiled in the Outer Rim Sieges around Saleucami when they had been commanded on this mission, and their last re-supply was much too long ago.

Within minutes the Captain and the surviving clone forces had made it way back to their camp, and the clone Captain had immediately gone to the long range communications array. Communications had been spotty, especially since landing in this forest, but Captain Crash knew that he needed to get the report out to the Republic Command and the Jedi Order.

Cursing in Mando'a as he slammed the communicator down the Captain kicked a crate, lashing out with his foot against the supply crate. The communications were out again! When he needed them most urgently they had failed. Glancing disdainfully at the unreliable equipment the Captain walked away. He had another ambush to organize, and he was confident that once they reached a clearing or left the forest the long range communications would work and he could relay the important message.

Two black clad soldiers saluted sharply as Lolsok approached them. They were standing guard at the Supply Center. Behind Lolsok a column of weary, dirty, and battleworn fighters also clad in black trailed closely. Soon they were all inside, and the troopers split off to their barracks where they could wash, eat, rest, and get ready for the next day.

The Supply Center, which was really a large system of bunkers that marked the edge of the forest and the outskirts of Newsilver, was veritably bustling with activity. Dozens of organics and droids alike were shuffling around the various rooms before their various tasks, some of them doing simple resupply jobs, some of them running logistics, and some of them doing various other tasks. The Supply Center was the very edge of the city of Newsilver, and the Separatist and Republic armies had both been making steady progress closer and closer, though the latter did not realize that the objective was to reach Newcastle. From here Lolsok had been sending and leading the raiding and ambush strikes against both of the armies.

This was not the main headquarters of the Sons of Lolsok, as the troopers had taken to calling themselves, but it served it's function well enough. Lolsok made his way through the various chambers and corridors of the subterranean complex soon came to his personal quarters. A scantily clad Twi'lek dancer was waiting for him when he arrived, but he waved her off, instead going straight for his bunk. She exited the room, leaving him to his own devices. Lolsok was asleep within minutes, exhausted after the days battle. He had been forced to expend lots of his energy simply trying to maintain a hidden position and still fight at the same time. He did not wish to reveal his presence quite yet to either of the invading armies. Within the next 24 standard hours he expected that the Separatists would reach the outskirts of Newsilver and would press directly towards the abandoned and decrepit Temple. That did not give him an extraordinary amount of time to either rest or plan, but he was confident that Captain Tavian would perform his duties well.

**The Next Day, Outskirts of Newsilver. Early Morning.**

Several longs columns of battle droids marched through the eerily empty city of Newsilver, clanking their way through. A few armored units and Super Battle Droids were present in the marching army, but at their head the imposing figure of Count Dooku marched solemnly. He held in his hand the only map of Newsilver that contained the old Temple, and he was using it to navigate through the unnaturally neat, clean, and empty city.

It had taken an all night march through the forest to reach even the outskirts of the city, but it had been worth it. The march had gone unharried since the last ambush when he had seen, just for the briefest moment, the red lightsaber through the smoke. Dooku had not given this much consideration, but he figured that it could have been a trick of the dim light or the roaring fires that had been burning nearly out of control. But try as he might to dismiss it or convince himself as such he could not forget the glow of the blade in the distance, so similar to the glow of his own lightsaber.

Suddenly the Force shifted, and he knew what was coming. It was the familiar feeling of an immediately pending attack. "Ambush! Engage the enemy!" Dooku yelled as he lit his lightsaber, and took off running. He leapt over a pristinely clean bench, and at once deflected two blaster bolts. Waving his hand and sending the two clone troopers flying to the side Dooku ran towards their fallen forms.

Cleaving his saber upwards as one of the clones tried to stand, only to find himself suddenly bisected at his hip, Dooku spun and stabbed the other clone through the chest. More blaster fire suddenly rained down on him, splashing the area. Twirling around this incoming fire, which was coming from two separate positions, the Count dodged and deflected as he made his way forward. He had long since stowed the map in his robes, but reaching the Temple was the least of his worries currently. He could see out of the corner of his eyes that the clones were launching a rather large ambush, and had committed many of their troops.

One trooper stood up from his cover, hoping to catch the Count unguarded with a point blank shot, but was only rewarded with a glowing gash, cauterized instantly, across his chest. He fell, dropping his gun as he grabbed at his chest and the pain began to set in. His screams fueled the Count, who was now impaling another clone.

Hefting the clone's body up, still impaled on his lightsaber, and using it to block incoming blaster fire Dooku's face twisted in rage as he flung his hand outwards and blue lightning crackled forth. The lightning twisted through the air, immediately reaching two more clone troopers, and Dooku held them in it's grip. The two clones kicked and screamed for a scant few moments before collapsing, killed by the sheer anger and fury behind the attack. The Count was becoming more and more angry as each moment he was forced to deal with this ambush went by it was another moment he was not searching for the holocron.

An explosion rang through the din of battle somewhere behind him, and the smell of blaster fire was beginning to saturate the air. Slicing his lightsaber downwards and killing the final clone to stand in his way Dooku turned and surveyed the battle. It seemed that what had originally appeared as a full commitment of the clone forces turned out to only be a small ambush, quickly fended off by the droid forces. But the price had been paid, and two of the tanks were now just smoldering wreckage, burning in the street. The clones had retreated away, but not without consequence. The ambush had been quick and unexpected, which allowed them to destroy the two tanks, but it had been rather costly. Dooku himself had killed nearly a dozen clones, and he it appeared that his droids had killed at least another dozen.

Based on the size of the clone forces that had attacked in the forest the Count realized that it had been pretty costly to the Republic. The clones were slowly losing more and more troopers, and this last ambush had been a flop for the clones.

Returning to his place at the head of the column Count Dooku brushed some dust off of his black cloak, and kept his hand near the curved hilt of his lightsaber. Gazing around the pristine city of Newsilver the Count sneered. It was a clean place, sure, but it was unnatural and completely empty. The emptiness did not bother the Count, indeed he was used to cities being emptied and evacuated prior to combat, but usually in those cities trash and debris littered the ground where people had escaped in a hurry. This place, so neat and clean and devoid of life unnerved Dooku, at least slightly. But he pressed on with his droids, making their way through the streets.

**Old Temple**

The Sons of Lolsok had come to be over two years before the Separatists and Republic armies arrived on Pehiri. Lolsok had arrived then, and with him he had brought three of his earliest followers along. One of them was Tavian, an old Devaronian who had spent years travelling and fighting all across the galaxy. Tavian quickly gained a huge role in the founding of the Sons of Lolsok. Upon their arrival on Pehiri the local populace was disorganized and somewhat in shambles, embroiled in a planet wide civil war. Lolsok and his men had managed to bring peace to Pehiri, though the manner they went about it was originally looked down upon by many Pehirians. But these dissenting Pehirians soon found themselves put to the sword by Lolsok just as he had put the leader of the civil war to the sword.

And so that was how peace came to Pehiri, through the cold blooded assassinations and murders of hundreds of the leaders of the civil war. The Pehirians were afraid, grateful, but afraid. The civil war had ravaged their world for nearly a decade before Lolsok arrived and put an end to it within months. Much of the planet had been ravaged by the war, and many of it's cities had been destroyed. That was how the city of Newsilver came to be, it was only a few years old, but it was built as a testament to Pehirian resolve and attitude. It was kept flawlessly clean as a sign of how the Pehirians were now purified and united under Lolsok.

That was how the Sons of Lolsok had gone from a simple gang of followers to nearly a full blown militant cult. Membership was up, training was up, and most important of all, three Force sensitive youth had been found and brought to Lolsok. They were not infants, indeed they were all teenagers. Their training and conversion to the Dark side of the Force had been what Lolsok considered one of his greatest accomplishment. Through the use of the holocron and twisting the long forgotten technique that was hidden inside of it Lolsok had been able to twist the minds of the teenagers, slowly converting them to be his disciples, his minions. Of course they now had little room in their minds for free-thinking, but instead were completely loyal and obedient to Lolsok. These three apprentices were currently inside the old and decrepit Temple, where their training had been taking place. Lolsok had had to leave the Temple with his troops to combat the Separatists and Republic armies in the forest, but now he was back.

"Has everyone been evacuated?" Lolsok asked, his voice gruff and weathered. His oldest, and only, friend looked up. Captain Tavian, leader of the military branch of the Sons of Lolsok, was currently cleaning his sidearm blaster.

"Every single person. Only people left in the city are us." The Devaronian finished with the blaster and replaced it in it's holster as he stood up.

Lolsok spoke again, "We must be ready. The Separatists are almost here, and the clones are not far behind. I want an ambush ready. Let them enter the Temple, but do not let them get far inside or we will lose control." Captain Tavian nodded at the command, and went to go ready his troops.

Looking around the now empty room Lolsok grew angry once again. He had hoped that no one would know about the Temple, and that he would have the holocron all to himself. It had taught him much, despite being a Jedi relic practically dripping with the Light side of the Force. Lolsok had twisted and corrupted its teachings and techniques for his own gain, and that was just fine with him. But now that damn Count Dooku wished to take it, and Lolsok held no illusions that the Count would put everyone on Pehiri to death if that is what it took to locate the holocron. So the holocron must be defended, but not because Lolsok held any attachment to the Pehirians, but because he did not wish to allow his main source of power to fall into Dooku's hands.

Igniting his lightsaber Lolsok slashed through a table, and threw his fist in a punch, using the Force to send the two halves of the table flying into the wall. Destroying the table did little to relieve his anger, and in fact only fueled his rage further. Slashing at another piece of furniture and sending it also careening into the wall the same fate was met by the rest of the furniture in the room.

After minutes of destruction the room was left bare of everything except for the scraps and debris of the furniture. Gazing at his lightsaber Lolsok reflected on how he had come to obtain it. It was a unique blade, longer and thinner than a typical lightsaber, but it served him quite well. It was an ancient Sith artefact, from an era thousands of years past.

The sound of a distant explosion distracted Lolsok, and he extinguished his lightsaber. Leaving the room and walking into a cold and drafty hallway Lolsok walked further into the abandoned Temple. The Separatists were coming closer and closer, and Lolsok would personally be defending the holocron. His three apprentices would be sent on their own tasks, and Captain Tavian would be handling the defense of the Temple. The next few hours would be very trying for Lolsok and his Sons.

**Newsilver City**

Captain Crash sighed, and not for the first time in the last half- hour. The ambush against the Separatists had been much more costly than he had anticipated and he was running low on troops and ammunition. This god-forsaken city had proven to be nothing but a disaster for the clones, losing many soldiers. Possibly worst of all was that the captain was still unable to contact the Republic Command to tell them of Count Dooku's presence on Pehiri.

Waving his hand and beginning to jog instead of walk the clone Captain was followed by the remaining clones, a group of about three dozen.

One of the surviving Lieutenants jogged up beside the Captain, and saluted before speaking. "Sir, reports suggest our communications are being jammed. Most likely the Separatists are jamming communications."

The Captain replied as the group kept jogging along through the street. "We only have enough men for one more strike, and even then it will be costly."

"Sir, where are we going?" The Lieutenant asked, looking slightly confused. Many of the clone troopers shared this confusion.

"We'll attempt to cut off the Separatists. Hit them with everything we've got one last time, and if we can take out the jamming device then we can reach Republic Command."

The Lieutenant nodded, and falled back a bit to inform the troops.

The group jogged for fifteen minutes before things started to deteriorate, running a parallel route to the Separatists. Every once in a while a clone scout trooper would confirm that they were following the Separatists. It was of no real worry, at least until the scouts quit returning.

After losing the third scout the Captain signalled a halt, and the clones stopped jogging. Spreading out among an open air plaza the clones took lookout positions. Something didn't quite feel right to the Captain, and the men could tell.

The Captain was standing on top a bench, visually scanning the area when all hell broke loose. It lasted only a moment, but for that moment it was panic and devastation among the clones. Three simultaneous explosions rocked through the pristine courtyard, sending dirt and smoke flying, obscuring everyone's vision. In each of the three plumes of smoke a glowing red blade flashed and danced, and the sound of blaster fire echoed through the city.

The clones not engulfed in the explosions or the clouds of smoke all looked to the Captain for orders. He signalled them to wait, but prepare for combat. The wind gently blew through, and the smoke began to clear. It was when the smoke cleared that the true devastation was laid to bare. Over a dozen clones were dead, their once white armor burnt and scorched. The explosions had claimed some of their lives, but the obvious signs of lightsaber damage were present on the other bodies. Yet among all of the carnage and death left behind from the explosions no perpetrator was evident, they had completely disappeared.

The Captain leapt forward from the bench, his blaster in hand, and began shouting orders. "Clones, on me! We're getting out of here!" And as he finished his command he rushed out of the clearing and back into the street, with the rest of the clones following him. They were running at top speed, all doing their best to put some distance between themselves and the clearing.

For a few moments it appeared as if the clones had escaped whatever threat lay behind them. It was moments later they were proven wrong.

From the front of the group the Captain could hear occasional screams, with less and less time between them. Blaster fire once more echoed through the streets, complimenting the unmistakable hum of a lightsaber and the screams of the dying.

His men were being picked off, one by one, and while Captain Crash had never become as famous for his deeds as some of the other clones he was a fine example of clone persistence. He could not simply stand by while his brothers, brothers who trusted him to keep them as safe as possible, were being killed one by one.

"Hold, brothers! We must turn and fight!" Shouting his order the Captain himself stopped running and raised his rifle. He turned, looking down the sight, but saw nothing except his fellow clones and an empty street. He was dismayed when he saw how few remained and his heart clenched. His duty had been to protect the men under his command, and yet he had failed them again and again on Pehiri, leading them in ambushes that only whittled them down and hurt them.

The clones all stopped running as well, forming up into their squads and frantically looking around the surrounding area. For an instant everything was silent, and the clones waited in tense suspense.

Suddenly tracking movement to his left the Captain took aim and fired his blaster at a dark robed figure. Twin bolts of plasma streaked across the street, sailing towards their target. At the last second the figure dropped low, dodging the two shots. By now the rest of the clones had realized what was happening, and began firing at the figure. The red blade of a lightsaber exploded forth and the dark robe flew backwards, flying off of the figure to reveal a short and petite female. Her grey skin shone oddly in the light, and her eyes seemed dead to the Captain.

She twisted and twirled, dodging and blocking and deflecting the blaster bolts, yet she made no move to attack. The sheer amount of blaster fire was beginning to overwhelm her. Twisting her saber to the right while at the same time trying to sidestep another shot she stumbled, falling to the ground. It was the chance the clones had been waiting for, and over a dozen blasters levelled at her now crouched figure.

In the split second before any of the clones could fire on the now nearly defenseless enemy she slid across the street, gliding across the rough pavement in a jarring and unnatural way. She came to rest at the feet of a taller, yet still grey skinned and dead eyed female, yet this female held a fierce red lightsaber in each hand. She stood menacingly and imposing, yet protectively, over the smaller girl.

"Kill them both!" The Captain shouted, as he reached to his utility belt and detached his last thermal detonator. A barrage of blaster fire approached the duo, and the thermal detonator soared through the air, beeping ever faster as it came closer and closer to its target. The taller girl pushed both of her hands forward, sending the detonator away from them as it exploded. The clones flinched, and the two lightsaber wielding foes leapt forward, slashing and slicing, now on the offensive.

The clones were trapped in the street, and could not fire without risking hitting their comrades. Within a few short minutes only the Captain remained, the rest of the clones dead or dying in various states of dismemberment and disfigurement. The pained screams and the laborious last breaths filled the street, and the Captain frantically looked around in dismay. He had failed his men, and failed them utterly. He deserved the highest punishment and the highest shame, yet he still had one opportunity to redeem himself, not that it mattered to his decimated troopers.

As his troopers lay in piles the Captain raised his rifle, training it on the petite form of the approaching killer. Her eyes still held no life, and her skin still shone eerily. In the light of the sun the blood of the fallen clones shone on her face and arms, making her cut quite an intimidating figure, despite her size. She walked forward, her lightsaber lit by her side. The Captain stood tall, determination clear on his face as he set his jaw and squeezed the trigger of his blaster, only to have the lightsaber swing upwards and block the shot. This was repeated over and over again as the cold blooded killer approached.

Finally the blaster clicked empty, and the woman was just a few short steps away, the Captain was nearly within swinging distance. The Captain threw the empty blaster hard, aiming straight at her face. While she swung her lightsaber, slicing the blaster in half mid-air, the Captain took advantage, diving forward. He tackled her, landing a punch square across her face. The lightsaber fell from her hand, and the Captain followed through with another punch. She stumbled, and a kick hit her ribs hard. The clone Captain stood over her, another kick cocked back and ready to strike. As the kick swung home, aimed straight for the woman's ribs, but she caught it, and flipped the Captain as she stood. Using the Force the lightsaber leapt back into her hand, and the blade ignited.

From his back the clone Captain looked up, and in his final moments saw the destruction and death in what remained of the street. Scorch marks and debris filled the once impeccably cleaned street, and so did the bodies of the clones. Most had stopped struggling and succumbded to their injuries and now laid silent and still.

This whole fiasco had lasted way too long, and had been way too costly for the Republic, and Captain Crash held no doubts that that had been his fault. He had mismanaged the whole situation from the beginning, and it had only gotten worse ever since the first ambush he had staged. He had led all of his troops to their deaths, and the cruiser in orbit above Pehiri had no way of knowing of his failure, nor of Count Dooku being on the surface. They would eventually send a team down to the surface to find the Captain and his company, but they would no doubt discover the truth of the massacre.

Unfeeling and dull eyes were the last thing the clone Captain saw as the lightsaber pierced his armor and stabbed through his stomach. The intense heat cauterized the grievous wound immediately and blistered the skin around it. It was painful, the worst pain the captain had felt in his life, but it was did not last long. Within moments the last glimmer of life left Crash, and his eyes shut once last time, a final grimace of anger and pain frozen on his face.

The two women walked away from the street, extinguishing their lightsabers and looking towards the end of the street. A third figure stood tall, his own dull eyes having watched the entire battle.

**Newsilver City, Near the Temple**

Count Dooku had felt a strange presence, two strange presences to be precise. They had flared brightly, the Dark side clear and present for Dooku to sense. But this did not concern him, he could now pick up the unmistakable feeling of the Light side of the Force. It had to be the holocron. It was created by a powerful and skilled Jedi Master, and was no doubt steeped thickly in the Light side. But the Count knew exactly how to fix that.

This small Light presence was growing stronger and stronger to the well-attuned senses of Cound Dooku with each step he took as he led the droid column deeper into the city. The clones had not been seen since the flare up of Dark side a few minutes past.

The Count suddenly stopped marching, raising his clenched fist to send the order down the line. Behind him he heard the droids and the tanks cease their own marching.

The Temple, or at least the entrance to it, loomed ahead. It was of an entirely separate architectural style than the rest of the city. While the rest of the city was modern and clean the old Temple was made of a sandy colored stone, and the gate stood tall among the relatively short buildings of Newsilver.

"Send in a squad." Dooku ordered, and the nearest group of droids marched into the open gate. The sounds of blaster fire echoed, and the mechanical screams of droids being destroyed were heard throughout the silent city.

Dooku lit his lightsaber, and approached the gate himself as he once more gave orders to the droids around him. "Bring up the tanks, and the B2's. I'll lead the assault." The droids scurried to obey, the tanks setting a defensive perimeter around the gate entrance to the Temple, and the remaining Super Battle Droids and Battle Droids forming up in their squads.

Dooku waved his hand forward and spoke, "Let's go!" and set off into the Temple. Almost immediately the group came under fire from those bastards in the black armor. Droids were falling left and right as the Count raised and swung his lightsaber over and over, blocking the blaster bolts.

The droids returned fire, fighting their way through the entrance gate of the Temple, and into the entrance hall. For every three droids that went down it seemed that only a single black armored fighter fell, but Dooku was happy with that ratio. He still had plenty of droids, especially if it was simply a battle of attrition to fight.

**Captain Tavian, Old Jedi Temple**

Thirty years of bounty hunting and fighting his way across the galaxy had been rough on the old Devaronian man, leaving his body scarred and worn out. But that was before he had joined up with the mysterious and powerful Weequay man known as Lolsok. Lolsok had brought Tavian in and put him in command of his own militaristic cult, soon known as the Sons of Lolsok.

Tavian had revolutionized the Sons, training and drilling them hard until they were a competent fighting force. And those two years of hard work with the Sons were paying off now, against the Separatists.

The droids, led by Count Dooku, were now making their way through the entrance hallway, inflicting heavy casualties on the Sons of Lolsok. For every Son that fell in combat only about three droids fell, less against the Super Battle Droids. While it was good that each Son brought down multiple droids before falling it was an unsustainable rate for the limited combat capabilities of the Sons of Lolsok.

Tavian ducked as a blaster bolt slammed into the stone behind his head, and squeezed off a few shots of his own in return. The droids, who were still advancing further and further into the Temple, were easy enough to deal with, but Dooku himself was nearly impossible. He was a fluid fighter, twisting and dodging his way around every bolt that came his way. He was a fierce and deadly enemy, cutting down Son after Son, and Tavian could do nothing to stop him.

Flipping the activator on a thermal detonator Tavian tossed it down the hallway. They had lost the entrance hall, and now it was up to his four squads of fighters to delay and harry the enemy troops until Lolsok ordered a retreat.

Tavian, wearing his own black armor, kept firing down the corridor, with two other Sons by his side. The thermal detonator exploded, buying them some time.

Tavian shouted, "Get down the hallway! Hold the crossways!" And him and the other two took up defensive positions at the end of the hallway, aiming their rifles down the now smoke filled hallway.

As droids once again began marching through the smoke, their own blasters firing indiscriminately, Tavian and his comrades opened fire. It seemed that they had gotten lucky and that Dooku had not followed down this hallway and had gone somewhere else.

Reports were coming over the communicator that the droids were making steady progress everywhere through the Temple, and that little could be done to stop them. It seemed that what was once a steady river of droids was now just a trickle, but that did not matter quite so much as Tavian would have liked. Sure, the droids were slowing down, but that did not matter when he had so few of his own troops left.

To his left one of the two Sons fell dead, a blaster mark smoldering right over a crack in his armor. Within seconds the man to his right fell dead, both of the bodies hitting the ground in a dull thud that was lost in the sound of blasters and the yells of the dying that echoed from deeper in the Temple.

Captain Tavian knew that the droids had taken that section of the Temple, and had no options left but to turn and run, firing his blaster behind his back to delay the droids. Turning a corner and sprinting down another hallway Tavian found another group of Sons, this group was setting up a heavy repeating blaster to defend the hallway.

Within the minute the droids came marching down the hallway, only to be cut down by the incredible power and rate of fire of the mounted blaster. The battle seemed to be swaying towards the Sons, and if they could keep up this killing rate then they would be in a much better position.

A glowing red blade, belonging to the Count, ignited at the end of the hallway.

"Kill Dooku! All fire on Dooku!" Tavian ordered, and his troops focused fire on him. The droids got a few lucky hits on his men, killing one more, but the massive amount of blaster fire on Dooku pinned the old ex-Jedi down. He was busy dodging and deflecting shots, and he could not advance under this close quarters hail of shots.

A single droideka rolled into the hallway, and stopped when it reached Dooku's side. It's shields activated, and it opened fire on the Sons. The torrent of blaster fire immediately switched from Dooku to the droideka, and the Count took full opportunity of this.

Within a few long strides the Count was upon the Sons, swinging and slashing his lightsaber, striking killing blows with each swing. It was mere seconds before all of the Sons in the hallway were dead, and Tavian himself found the glowing red blade stabbing directly out of his own stomach.

The pain was searing, but lasted only a moment before the old Devaronian sank to the ground, dead.

In his last moment of life Tavian held onto his hope that the Count would lose, and was reaffirmed as he saw three more red lightsabers ignite, these belonging to the three apprentices, at the end of the hallway. Tavian died with a smile on his face, confident that Lolsok and his apprentices could defeat the Count.

What Tavian did not live long enough to see was the bloody slaughter of the three Dark apprentices at the hands of Count Dooku. The battle was fierce, but ultimately one sided.

**Count Dooku, Old Jedi Temple**

Swirling around the moment the three blades lit the Count was on the offensive immediately. Drawing one of the three new enemies to him the Count stabbed forward with his lightsaber, impaling the girl through the stomach. Using the Force to slam the stabbed girl;s body into the wall, shattering a section of stone, Dooku felt the Force and her life leave her body.

With a great shout a tall and muscular man charged Dooku, swinging his lightsaber wildly in his fury. Blue lightning shot forth from Dooku's fingers, catching the man mid charge, and electrocuting him severely. The man fell, his lightsaber falling to the cold floor of the hallway, and his body spasming and jerking.

The third combatant, the tall and also slender woman, leapt forward with her own two lightsabers in her hands. It was a short and tense duel, both Dooku and the apprentice battled hard and tensely. Sparks flew and the hallway was illuminated by the irregular glow of the lightsabers and the frequent clashes.

The tall woman stumbled, clumsily losing her balance, and she never felt Dooku's lightsaber bisect her nearly completely. She was dead instantly, her cleaven body falling to the side of the corridor.

"You bastard!" The male apprentice shouted, his gruff and emotion filled voice ringing off the walls of the hallway. For the first time Dooku saw the slightest bit of emotion on the man's face. Pure rage and venom were etched into the man's face as he re-lit his lightsaber and charged.

The Count was forced to raise his saber to block a fierce downward swing, and soon found himself on the defensive from fierce and fast strikes from the enraged apprentice.

It went along for several long moments, at least until the apprentice made a mistake, much as his comrade had and stumbled.

Dooku swung, his blade humming and singing in the somewhat cramped corridor, and the apprentice dropped his lightsaber, screaming in pain as he grabbed at the stump that had been his arm a moment ago.

The apprentice quickly found himself impaled on Dooku's blade, exactly as his two comrades had found themselves. Within minutes Count Dooku had utterly defeated and destroyed the three apprentices. They had been no real challenge to him.

**Lolsok, Old Jedi Temple**

Run. He had to run. That was it, and that was all. Lolsok hated it, but he knew it. Nothing could be done now. Tavian was dead, he could sense it, and so were his three apprentices. With each passing moment more and more of the Sons of Lolsok died fighting the droid army, and Dooku was making his way through the Temple at an alarming speed.

Lolsok was sprinting through the complex labyrinth of tunnels and corridors that made up the old Temple, and soon burst into the oldest and what was once one of the most sacred parts of the temple. Old statues of Jedi Masters and important figures line this room, and many chairs and meditation spots were set out. But that is not what Lolsok was after, he was after the lectern in the center of the room.

Floating a few inches above the lectern was his prize, his most valuable possession. The ancient and powerful holocron hovered, lazily fluctuating it's height.

Lolsok could sense Dooku was nearly into the chamber as well, and knew that Dooku would arrive before he could escape the Temple.

Retrieving his lightsaber and igniting it as he tucked the holocron into his robes, Lolsok turned just in time to face Dooku as the Count barged into the room.

"Hand over the holocron." The Count ordered, his own lightsaber held at his side, blade humming and ready.

"No. The holocron is mine, and it will stay that way." Lolsok responded, bitter anger and hate leaking through his words. He could feel his rage building, his heart thumping faster and faster. The man across the room from him had cold bloodedly slaughtered his only friend, and his three apprentices.

Dooku stepped forward, dropping into a combat stance, and Lolsok raised his blade. The two circled each other, the tension rising. The presence of the Dark side of the Force rose and rose, soon becoming a veritable hum in the atmosphere of the room.

"You won't escape here, Weequay. You'll be dead before you can reach the door." Dooku said, his power evident in his voice.

The weathered and gruff Weequay responded, "Then strike me down now, Count. Strike me down, or are you afraid?"

Count Dooku kept his calm, but Lolsok could see the rage building in his eyes. If Lolsok could provoke Dooku into striking first he would have a much better chance of escaping this chamber alive.

"I know what you're doing, Weequay, but it does not matter. You'll die here in this Temple." And the Count sprung forward, his lightsaber shoved forward in a stab. Lolsok hopped to the side, bringing his longer and more slender blade in a downwards strike. The Count turned, dodging the blow.

Dooku pushed his hand forward, using the Force to shove Lolsok backwards. Once he was far enough away blue lightning leapt from the Count's hand, leaping the distance between the two combatants.

Lolsok saw it coming, but could not dodge it in time. It was much too fast, and for a moment he was afraid that he would be caught in the lightning. If he was caught in it he held no doubts that it was very unlikely that he would escape.

Bringing his lightsaber down, in the very last second, before the lightning hit Lolsok absorbed it into his blade. The hilt of the lightsaber shook and vibrated, unused to dealing with such raw Sith power, but the blade held firm and blocked the lightning.

Rising from the cold stone ground of the chamber Lolsok kept his blade focused on blocking the lightning, the blinding flash disturbing his eyes. Dooku, on the other side of the lightning, was pumping more and more power into his attack, focusing his hate and anger more and more.

A sudden moment of clarity came to Lolsok. He could use the technique he had adapted from the holocron. It might give him a fighting chance, or at least a chance to escape the chamber. Focusing as much as he could of his own mind, drawing power from his anger and rage. This particular technique took a lot of strength, and it would not be fully completed, especially against such a strong and willful mind as Count Dooku's.

The lightning kept up, it seemed that Dooku was unwilling to relent his attack against Lolsok, and Lolsok held his lightsaber firm while he gathered his power for a sudden strike.

For a moment the Count pressed so much power and hate into his lightning that the Weequay fighter was afraid he would not be able to contain it anymore. It was now that Lolsok struck, breaking his connection to the lightning and jumped to the side. The lightning, now unburdened, slammed into the stone floor, sending chips and bits flying through the air.

A single chip of stone slashed across Lolsoks face, drawing blood and making a deep gash below his left eye. The blood ran down his face, flowing through the natural grooves and ridges of the Weequay man, and dripping onto the floor.

The Count, for his merit, was not surprised by the sudden break of combat, and simply lunged forward in a sweeping slice of his lightsaber, careful not to overextend his reach. His brow scrunched in slight surprise when he found that the Weequay was no where to be seen.

In fact Lolsok had used a blinding speed and his cunning to position himself behind the Count. If his special technique was to have any chance of working then Lolsok would need to be behind the Count, just as he was now.

Cupping his free hand and gathering all of the power he could Lolsok focused, entering a short meditative trance that allowed him to focus his will on the Force he gathered. Keeping in mind exactly what he had learned from the holocron and exactly how he had tweaked it the Weequay let loose his attack, sending it directly into the Count's back.

The Count was shoved forward, hitting the stone wall with much force. Dooku's lightsaber fell, and the man rubbed at his temple. The crash into the stone had hurt, and had dazed him, but what he was much more preoccupied with was the sudden presence in his mind. Strong feelings and urges to simply give up soon hit him, but he realized they were not his own thoughts.

Dooku struggled to his feet, and used the Force to retrieve his lightsaber and re-ignite the blade. He saw the skin on his hands now had the slightest greyish glow to them, just as the skin of the three apprentices he had killed earlier. So that was how this Weequay had converted the three Force sensitives, he had used some sort of impulsion or mind control through the Force. And that was indeed the subject of the holocron that Dooku was seeking in this old and abandoned Jedi Temple.

It had taken Dooku several long moments to recover from the unusual Force attack, and by the time he did recover the Weequay was gone, no trace of which way he had gone, and even his Force presence was dead.

Dooku hailed the surviving droids on his communicator, and informed them to be on the lookout for a fleeing Weequay, and that he should be shot on sight. Hopefully the tanks would be able to take care of him.

The reply cackled back over the communicator, "Yes sir, Lord Dooku. A friendly cruiser has just entered orbit, and we are sending reinforcements."

Count Dooku smiled. This was the first piece of good news that he had received in hours. He would now have plenty of back up troops, and would be able to scour the city properly.

Lolsok ran hard through the tunnels, rage coursing through his veins. It seemed that every corridor he passed held the bodies of more and more Sons, and none were alive. The only consolation was that for each body of a Son he found he came across many more destroyed droids.

He had had the opportunity to possibly strike down Dooku while he had been disorientated in the chamber, but something had stopped him. Something of pure anger and hatred, something that radiated undiluted and unrestricted power. Lolsok suspected that it had been an embodiment of the Dark side of the Force itself that had stayed his hand, but he was unsure.

Turning a corner, and running into a group of three Super Battle Droids and a handful of Battle Droids Lolsok immediately went on the offensive.

Sprinting forward to close the distance and swung his blade, slicing one of the Super Battle Droid's in half. As the top half fell to the ground Lolsok used a Force Push to send three of the regular B1 Battle Droids careening into the wall, where they smashed into bits.

One of the remaining Super Battle Droids swung, and found itself suddenly missing an arm. Within seconds the droid was missing its other limbs, and was impaled through the chest piece by Lolsoks lightsaber.

The third and final Super Battle Droid, and the remaining ordinary Battle Droids, had fallen back to the end of the corridor and were firing their blasters. The first shot Lolsok reflected back into one of the two B1's, and the second shot he reflected into the other, all the time steadily advancing forward. Once he was within range he bisected the last Super Battle Droid, each half falling to the side.

This short engagement had likely been noisy, probably echoing through some of the nearby hallways, and more importantly it had eaten up his time. Lolsok knew he only had a matter of time until more droids came and sealed off his exit for good. Cursing he turned and ran down the hallway once again, headed towards an old escape tunnel deep underground.

After a few minutes of running through the various halls and chambers Lolsok reached his destination. It was not an original part of the Temple, but instead was an addition that he had had secretly constructed just in case this exact type of situation arose. He would have much preferred to have Tavian, and perhaps some of the other Sons at his side, but he could sense that what was once his own proud and militaristic cult was destroyed completely. His last hope was that he could reach the secret hangar that was buried deep beneath the city.

He now stood in a secret speeder bay, which was much deeper under the city than the other parts of the old Jedi Temple. He would be able to take a speeder from here, into the city via a turbolift, and then take the speeder through the city

Quickly walking through the speeder bay Lolsok chose a fast and armed speederbike and mounted it. He again would have preferred to have a companion or two with him so he could take one of the larger and heavily armed speeders, but seeing as he was alone and mobility would be key for escaping to the hangar he chose a speederbike.

Firing up the engine and priming the mounted blasters as he idled the speederbike over to the turbolift Lolsok took a moment to confirm that the holocron was safely secured in his robe pocket. It would not do to lose his most prized and valuable possession by having it carelessly fall out of his robes during his escape from the city. Lolsok did not know, but he suspected that the Separatist forces would be crawling the city looking for him.

The turbolift took him upwards, several hundred feet, and deposited him in the interior of a fake building, constructed specifically as a hiding place for the escape route. The building appeared completely normal from the outside, but was really just a waystation on the way to the secret hangar. Lolsok would have much preferred to have a direct route from the speeder bay to the hangar, but the local geology would not allow for it.

Opening what was essentially a large garage door the Weequay man took the speeder out onto the street, seeing no immediate resistance. Immediately setting off, speeding through the city streets and alleys Lolsok made good time. The secret hangar complex was on the opposite side of the city, but that should not be an issue, especially if he could continue at this rate of travel.

That was not to be, however, as Lolsok rounded a corner and found himself very nearly staring down the barrel of a Separatist tank. It was only his quick reaction and a speedy swerve out of the way that prevented the barrel of the tank from demounting him. Lolsok killed the engine of his speederbike and leapt off of it, jumping onto the roof of the tank. Using his lightsaber to cut through the hatch and to slice the droid pilot he jumped off, back to the street. The tank, now without a functioning pilot, careened off course and into a building, crashing through the wall and exploding moments later.

On the street several Super Battle Droids and Battle Droids were converging, beginning to fire at Lolsok. Only his sharp reflexes and skill allowed him to dodge the volley of blaster bolts, and mount the speederbike again. Taking off, still under fire, Lolsok piloted the bike straight through the group of droids, using the blasters to take a few out on the way. He crushed one droid completely, and escaped the droids altogether.

He was positive that these droids had gotten the message out and that his location was now known to the rest of the Separatist forces. That cut down on the time he had severely. He needed to get to the secret hangar, and quick. Otherwise he would be stuck in the city, and even if he did make it to the hangar he might get shot down in his escape attempt from the hangar.

The next few minutes passed quickly, though not as quickly as Lolsok would have liked. He did not run into any more droid patrols, nor did he see Dooku himself, but Lolsok knew that was because he was trying very hard to mask his presence and not let his position slip.

Parking the speederbike and running to his own personal starfighter, a completely black HH-87 Starhopper, Lolsok fired up the engine. While it did have several engine, weapons, and navigational upgrades Lolsok knew that it was no stealth ship and that it's engines would be put to the test to escape whatever forces the Separatists had in orbit. Patting his side once more Lolsok ensured that the holocron was still safely in his possesion. Satisfied that it was safe the Weequay fired up the ship and it's sensors and breathed a sigh of relief.

It seemed that while the Separatists had two cruisers in orbit the Republic had one of their own, and the three were fighting it out above Pehiri. Closing the cockpit of the Starhopper and engaging the wings Lolsok also primed the weapons systems.

The engines activated and everything was working as it should. Rising slowly, Lolsok used the Force to open the hangar bay doors, and the Starhopper made it's way out of the hangar.

Pushing more power to the engines and gaining speed Lolsok soon found himself high over Newsilver, and shortly after he was in breaking free of orbit. A slight shaking and bumping and the Starhopper broke free of Perhiri's gravity and was going into space.

Lolsok deftly avoided the space battle taking place above Pehiri. It was not difficult, the battle was mainly happening thousands of miles away. Slipping away into the inky blackness of space did nothing to alleviate Lolsok's anger, but he was happy to be escaping the planet alive. Flipping a few levers and running some calculations on the onboard nav-computer Lolsok quickly made the jump to hyperspace, leaving Pehiri thousands of lightyears behind.


	2. Chapter 2

Well welcome everybody to my newest Star Wars short story. This one doesn't have a title, but I think I might write a few more short stories about this group. If you follow my main Harry Potter story, Night is Long, you might be delighted to hear that I am writing that again. Not many views on the first story in this short story compilation, but with time I hope that changes. Let me know what y'all think about this and for sure check out my other stories too! I love feedback and y'all have a great day.

"One hell of a hideout, huh."

"Cut the chatter, Hardhead."

"Sir, yes, sir!"

The voices of the two speakers were identical. Indeed it was not just the voices that were identical but the two beings were exact genetic copies of each other. These two, 'Hardhead', and 'Othus' were half of an elite Republic squad of Commandos known as Kill Team Bravo. Othus was the Captain, Hardhead the demolitions expert, and the two other members of the team, Speed, and Hotshot were the technician and crackshot respectively.

Kill Team Bravo, as this group had been designated, had been created as a group of Clone Commandos that would handle the delicate assassination jobs that were a brutal necessity of war.

But as the team made it's way, essentially silently, through tunnel after winding tunnel Othus looked to their Commander for guidance. Jedi Master Von Dolros, a young Weequay Jedi in the prime of his life, was leading the way. His padawan, Christa Kelsey, a young human female from Coruscant itself, followed behind her Master. Behind her was Captain Othus, then Hardhead, followed by Hotshot, and finally Speed brought up the rear. Everyone kept their heads on a swivel, helmet lights sweeping back and forth. Kill Team Bravo was here, way out on the fringe of the Outer Rim, bordering Wild Space, hunting a dangerous assassin in the employ of the Separatist Alliance. The assassin was a Shistavanen who was wanted for the murder of a Senator on Coruscant. He had been tracked down by Republic Intelligence and Kill Team Bravo had been sent in, led by Master Dolros. His padawan had come along, being judged old and experienced enough to come. She was on the very verge of Knighthood, and was eager to prove herself.

The Captain found that he did agree with what Hardhead had said, though. It was one hell of a hideout. It was located on a large asteroid, just a short hyperspace jump away from Koda Station in the Outer Rim. It's winding tunnels and long hallways were all opulently decorated with expensive metals and fine works of art. The entire place was clean, if eerily empty. The commando squad had been searching for the better part of fifteen minutes and had yet to come across a single droid or organic.

The group reached a fork in the hallway. A hand signal from Master Dolros that was relayed back informed the team that they would be splitting up. Himself, Hotshot, and Speed would be going down the left passage while Christa, Captain Othus, and Hardhead would be going down the right.

A pair of bright yellow, lupine, eyes followed the clone commandos movements on a datapad screen. It had been fifteen minutes since the group had arrived, no doubt here to slay him. Korta Roxe snarled, and grabbed his blaster rifle and commlink. He almost felt bad for the clones. They couldn't have come at a more misfortunate time… for themselves.

The group was appearing to split up, one group taking a path down the hall that would eventually lead to himself, and the other group taking the path that would lead to the secret hangar, where a nasty surprise was awaiting them.

Korta clicked the commlink twice, sending a message on his secure channel, and grabbed a handful of extra power cells and thermal detonators as he maneuvered his slightly over 2 meter frame outside of his hiding spot. He was prepared to go and meet these 'commandos' and see what they were really about. After all they were just clones, and how could a clone match an organic being in skill? They were born and bred in test tubes!

Jedi Master Von Dolros was nearing forty five years of age, but that did not slow him down at all. He was in peak physical condition, even despite the three long years of war with the Separatist Alliance. He had been on hundreds of combat missions, several dozen of those with the very same team he was with now. They worked well together and had experience.

He felt ahead of his group as he led them on with the Force. He could not detect any living beings, except for the clones and his padawan learner. His mind drifted ever so slightly as he considered his padawan, Christa Kelsey. The war had forced her to grow up a bit faster than he had liked, but she had adapted well and proven herself in combat again and again.

The Jedi's green blade illuminated the dark and empty hallway when the Force suddenly surged in activity.

"Down!" He shouted as he hit the ground, rolling away from a cluster of blaster shots. The two clones behind him reacted as well. Speed dropped down to one knee, raising his DC-17m and returning with several of his own blaster bolts. Hardhead, the heavy weapons and demolitions expert hefted up his LS-150 ACP repeater, sending a hail of plasma charges down the hallway.

It seemed that whatever or whoever had shot at them had disappeared, but Master Dolros knew better. He was up from the ground in a split second, his lightsaber held in both hands as he charged. He knew from experience that Speed would be covering his flank, and that Hardhead would be coming up behind the two. He activated his commlink and spoke. "Contact with enemy! Keep searching, I'll stay in touch." The message was for Captain Othus and his padawan, and within moments he had received a blip acknowledging his statement.

The hallway they were currently running down was barely illuminated, and then only by the helmet illuminators on the commandos Katarn-class armor. Another blaster bolt flew down the hallway, briefly illuminating a shadowy figure at the end of the hallway. Master Dolros instinctively deflected the bolt and continued down the hallway. It was only fifteen meters to the end.

The Force flared a warning just a split second before the entire hallway was lit up in a fireball and an explosive shockwave sent the clones and Jedi Master stumbling. It was only due to the Force that he was able to deflect another blaster bolt through the smoky haze of the dark hallway. Now a steady stream of red blaster bolts were flying downrange towards him and his clones, from at least two sources. It was impossible to make out the figures firing at them.

The Jedi Master quickly returned to his charge, largely unfazed by the explosion. Behind him and to his left he heard a quick cry of pain, but it was quickly silenced and replaced by an angry shout and rapid blaster fire.

"Speed's been hit!" Hardhead yelled out into the commlink. His ACP roared a return of fire down the hallway as he went to check on his wounded comrade.

Speed's voice was heard next, "Flesh wound. I'm alright!" Master Dolros was glad that Speed was okay. He shouted his next order, "Charge!"

He heard two sets of bootsteps behind him as he reached the end of the hallway, and now saw their enemies. Two droids, commando droids, were ducking and firing even as the Jedi Master sprinted towards them, dodging and deflecting blaster shots. He sliced one droid in half, and the other bashed his rifle across the Jedi Master's jaw. Pain throbbed, but it was not unbearable. A quick Force Push sent the droid skittering down the hallway, blasting wildly along the way.

Speed arrived at the Jedi's side, with Hardhead two steps behind him. A flurry of blaster bolts turned the droid commando into spare parts, sparking in the dim hallway. Master Dolros noticed distinct scorch marks and burns along Speed's right shoulder.

They had reached another 'T' intersection, and were standing in the middle of it. The Force Push had sent the droid down the left hallway. Suddenly the clank of metal down the right side drew their attention. A twin linked blaster cannon descended from the ceiling, and opened fire. A moment later an identical blaster cannon descended from the ceiling of the left hallway, and it opened fire as well. The clones and Jedi were caught in a crossfire, with very little cover.

"EMP now!" Master Dolros yelled even as Speed primed one of the EMP blast grenades from his belt and tossed it down the left hallway. The Jedi was busy deflecting shots from the right hallway's blaster as Hardhead tried his best to gun it down. The clone commando's shots seemed nearly entirely ineffective.

A web of static burst out of the EMP grenade, and to Speed's surprise it did nothing to stop the blaster.

"They're shielded, sir!" The Jedi nodded, and began walking backwards. The clones continued firing at the cannons, until the were all safely in the hallway they had come from.

The blasters ceased firing when they could no longer see the clones, and the group took a moment of respite from the incessant blaster fire.

"Contact with enemy! Keep searching, I'll stay in touch."

Padawan Kelsey raised her own lightsaber, blue in color, and led her fireteam down the right side corridor. Captain Othus was right behind her, his DC-17 raised and ready. Hotshot followed him, his DC configured to sniper pattern, his head on a swivel as he scanned the hallway and watched their backs.

"Sir, schematics read that we are approaching the hangar." Captain Othus relayed over the commlink.

The young padawan nodded and kept her pace. Her mission was to first eliminate any means of escape so that if the mission went south it would be impossible for their target to leave. The clones had their own extraction lined up for when they completed the mission.

As the group approached a set of open blast doors they all dropped to the floor. They could hear voices up ahead, talking to each other.

It was difficult to make out exactly what was being said, but the advanced audio receptors in the clones armor picked it up without too much difficulty.

"I don't see why we're here. Some backwater asteroid on the edge of the galaxy. We should be with the boss." One voice said. The voice was deep, and masculine.

Another masculine voice answered the first, "I don't know. But orders are orders and the boss told us to be here."

Padawan Kelsey motioned with her hand for Hotshot to move forwards, creeping closer to the open blast doors as he raised his sniper pattern blaster. He aimed down the sight and peered out into the hangar beyond.

"Sir, I'm seeing two combatants. Appear to be wearing Mandalorian armor…" His voice trailed off. Captain Othus responded on the closed commlink inside the helmets, "What is it, Hotshot?"

"Death Watch, sir. Two of them."

Padawan Kelsey's blood ran cold. She had been up against the Death Watch on exactly one occasion before and it had been a massacre for her squad of troopers. She had barely escaped with her life, and had not escaped uninjured at that. She still bore a large scar from a Death Watch vibroblade.

She spoke, quietly, into her commlink, "Hotshot, do you have a clean shot?"

The clone commando responded, "Negative, sir. Can't get a clean kill shot."

The Padawan nodded and motioned for Captain Othus to prepare thermal detonators. She counted down on her fingers

...3...2...1… Two thermal detonators rolled into the hangar, catching the two Death Watch unawares, scarcely two seconds later they detonated, sending a reverberating shock wave throughout the hallway even as the Padawan and Captain Othus rose up and entered the room. Hotshot began firing into the hangar.

The thermal detonators had not killed either of the Death Watch members. Their quick reactions and jet packs had allowed them to dodge the blast, and the two began firing rapidly into the open blast doors. Captain Othus returned fire as Padawan Kelsey deflected the first shots away. As the Republic fireteam entered the hangar they noticed a shuttle and a small starfighter. One of the Death Watch members landed on the wing of the shuttle, firing his blaster. Captain Othus sprinted ahead, and ducked below the wing of the starfighter, using it as cover.

Hotshot was doing his best to line up kill shots, but it was difficult with the Death Watch jet packs giving them increased mobility. He was firing shots as accurately as possible, but it was not as effective as he hoped. His frustration grew as he squeezed off several shots and they were all dodged.

The Death Watch fighter on the shuttle wing activated his commlink, and second later a set of blast doors on the opposite side of the hangar opened. In came three commando droids of the Separatist Alliance, all sprinting at full speed and firing their blasters. Suddenly the Padawan and clones were outnumbered. This was not ideal, but it was also definitely not insurmountable for the Republic strike team.

The Death Watch member still on the ground took off into the air, still firing his blaster rapidly. A precise blaster shot from Hotshot hit him in the chest and he went down, landing hard on the metal floor of the hangar. His rifle went skittering across the floor, and as he got up he drew two blaster pistols, still firing as fast as he could.

Captain Othus switched his focus from the Death Watch fighter on the shuttle to the commando droids instead, dropping one with a clean headshot.

Padawan Kelsey jumped high, using the Force, and landed on the shuttle, very close to the Death Watch fighter who had been firing at Captain Othus. She dodged several shots before swinging her lightsaber, forcing the fighter to jump backwards and shoot up into the air. He fired his rifle several times, only for his shots to be blocked.

Hotshot was now pinned down by the door, the Death Watch fighter and one commando droid keeping him suppressed. Captain Othus was also nearly pinned down by the starfighter, the remaining commando droid laying a heavy stream of fire on him. The second Death Watch member was engaged with fighting the lightsaber wielding Padawan in front of him.

"I'm pinned down!" Hotshot shouted across the comm channel. Captain Othus dared to raise his head a moment and fired off several shots at the Death Watch member who was using his pistols. The man went down, catching one blaster bolt to his left shoulder. He continued firing with his right hand, but at a much reduced rate. Captain Othus ducked again as a hail of blaster fire forced his head down.

Padawan Kelsey jumped to the side, dodging a trio of blaster bolts, and swung her lightsaber. She caught the Death Watch fighter in the leg, near his foot, and severed it completely. The man swerved hard on his jet pack, careening into a wall, making the jetpack explode. He died with a pained shout and Padawan Kelsey turned her attention to the two commando droids. One was still firing on Hotshot along with the Death Watch member, and the other was firing on Captain Othus with precise, deadly blaster shots.

She hurled her lightsaber into the back of the remaining Death Watch fighter, running him through, and summoned it back to her hand with the Force. By now the two commando droids had realized they lost the upper hand and retreated through the blast doors that they had come from.

"Hotshot, guard that door! Captain, lets rig these explosives!" Padawan Kelsey ordered, and the two clones hopped to. Captain Othus retrieved several thermal detonators from his pack and began rigging up several meters of det-tape on both the shuttle and the starfighter.

Hotshot took up a defensible position at the blast doors, vigilantly watching in case the droids returned. It had been a fierce, but rather short, fire fight. They were all uninjured, but had spent a good amount of ammunition.

"Sir, explosives are rigged. Let's get out of here!" The Captain yelled as he handed the Padawan the detonator. She nodded and the group moved into the hallway that the droids had gone down. It appeared to go for 10 or 15 meters before turning to the side.

"We'll have to clear the blast zone before we detonate. You didn't put too much, right Captain?"

"Right, sir." Too much would compromise the structure and jettison them all into the cold black void of space.

The group turned the corner, heading down the only hallway where the commando droids could have gone, staying alert and vigilant. The hallway opened up into a room, what seemed to be a kitchen.

Captain Othus scanned the room, now taking point, and waved the group in. The other two followed him. The kitchen was empty, and led into a dining room. Captain Othus saw movement at the other end of the room through the darkness, and waved the group to halt. He raised his blaster and waited a moment. From the opposite corner that he saw movement a blood red blaster bolt flew forwards, hitting him in the chest piece. Captain Othus went down as Padawan Kelsey used the Force to send every dish, bit of silverware, and chair flying to provide some cover.

"Man down!" was yelled over the local commlink as Hotshot dashed into the room and grabbed the downed Captain, who was moaning even as he fired his DC at the commando droids hidden in the corners of the room.

One droid went down to a blaster bolt from the Captain and a deflected blaster bolt of its own, it's head exploding in a mass of sparks. The sparks showered down around it's body, lighting up that corner enough for the decadent works of art to be illuminated for a brief moment. The other commando droid began to retreat to the opposite doorway, still laying down a barrage of accurate blaster fire. The Captain ducked as Hotshot dragged him clear of the incoming fire and began to treat his wounds with bacta spray after quickly removing his chest plate. It was not a very serious wound, but it would need treatment at a Republic base. The damage was too much for the field med-kit to repair.

Padawan Kelsey's hastily thrown lightsaber cut the droids retreat short, impaling it through the chest and sending it crashing into the ground. Padawan Kelsey summoned her lightsaber back to her hand and went to check on the Captain. He was injured, but back up and standing now. His armor was back on fully.

"Captain, can you fight?" She asked.

She could hear the indignation in his voice as he replied. "Of course, sir!"

"Then up and at em', soldier!" Was her reply, and he rose to his feet, unsteadily at first, but gathering himself after a moment.

"We'll stay here for a moment and let that bacta settle in." And the group stayed, preparing to defend the dining room from any attack that might come.

Jedi Master Dolros, Speed, and Hardhead were currently pinned down, deadly blaster fire keeping their heads down. Speed had been hit pretty hard, but was still in fighting condition. Whenever anyone in the group would stick out their head a barrage of blaster fire would rain down.

The two clones looked to the Jedi Master for guidance. He met their gaze and stood, walking several paces to stand next to a bare section of wall.

"If I remember correctly, on the other side of this wall is a storage room." Speed nodded. They had all memorized as much of the schematics as they had had available before the mission.

Without much further ado the Jedi Master cut a hole into the wall, using the Force to push the now free wall section into the storage room. Hardhead led the way into the room, his ACP ready to fire. Nothing was in the room except several crates, some appearing to hold food, and some appearing to hold ammunition.

Master Dolros entered the room next, his lightsaber drawn and his mind reaching out to the Force. Speed came in behind him, blaster ready.

The Jedi walked over to the far wall, and stuck his lightsaber through it, cutting another hole. He used the Force to push out the now freed section and carefully peered out. He was directly under one of the cannons, and quickly jerked his head back inside when the cannon in the opposite hallway swerved to bear on him.

He swung his lightsaber upwards, still safely concealed in the room, and sliced the cannon above him in half, a small explosion ringing out. Using a series of hand signals he relayed to the clones that they would move down the hallway, only being under fire from the still remaining cannon for several meters before they were in safety. With a final gesture Master Dolros leapt out into the hallway, lightsaber up and ready as he watch the cannon swivel and begin firing.

He deflected three duos of shots from the dual linked cannon as the two clones dashed behind him. "Now!" He shouted.

From a crouched position, Speed raised his DC-17 and fired an accurate burst of shots, hitting the blaster cannon and knocking it out of commision. A shower of sparks rained down from the ceiling as it was destroyed.

The Jedi Master relaxed for a moment and began to lead the two clone commandos further through the complex.

Korta was angry now. These Republic dogs had come into his home, his space, and had ruined everything. His contingent of Death Watch had been killed, he had seen that on his surveillance systems. The commandos had also destroyed several of his droid guards.

The angry Shistavanen set down his blaster rifle, and made his way to a locked cabinet. Quickly typing the keycode into the pad the locks undid with a hiss, and the door slid open to reveal his prized possession. A T-7 Ion Disruptor rifle, or at least a prototype version was hung in front of him. It was a nearly priceless weapon, very valuable and also very very illegal. He had received it as a bounty reward from Count Dooku after a particularly difficult mission to assassinate several Senators.

Korta Roxe removed the rifle from its case, and checked the display. It was fully loaded, and he had plenty of ammunition. He clicked the commlink twice more, and typed several commands into a datapad before shutting the armored cabinet once more and leaving the room.

His large paw like feet made very little sound as he stalked through his darkened complex. For millennia his people had been extremely adept hunters and stalkers, and he was no different than his ancestors. His ears perked, and he smelled the air, utilizing all of his senses to stalk his prey. He knew that the commandos had split up, the Jedi Master leading two and the Padawan leading the other two. He was unconcerned about the young Padawan. She would be dealt with soon enough. He had set his gaze on the Master, Jedi were renowned throughout the galaxy for their skill and prowess, especially since the break out of the Clone Wars. To kill a Jedi would give Korta much recognition and respect among the bounty hunter community, not to mention a very large bonus from the Separatists.

Ion disruptor in hand Korta prowled, his large frame all but invisible as he moved. He knew exactly where he was, and exactly where the Jedi he was hunting was. It was only a several minute walk from his position.

It was indeed only several minutes later that Korta heard the sound of boot steps, and he crouched, hidden behind several statues to the side of the hallway. Moments later a flashlight beam swept across the hallway where he was hiding. Korta kept still, not even daring to breathe. The light passed him over, sweeping around the hallway and then disappearing. That was when Korta leaned out, and raised his rifle.

The flashlight belonged to one of the clones, it was mounted on what appeared to be a heavy weapons system that he wielded with both hands. This clone was at the middle of the ha, with the Jedi behind him. The second clone commando brought up the rear, as Korta could see.

Korta zeroed in on the Jedi Master, the ion disruptor primed and ready to fire. He took a breath in and held it, squeezing the trigger with the next heartbeat. A greyish ball of energy flew down the hallway, speeding towards its target.

Hardhead was leading the way as the trio moved deeper and deeper into the complex. Behind him Master Dolros was contemplating their next move. They had not yet engaged their real target, but he was confident that they were closing in. The Force had been oddly quiet in the last few minutes, which put him on edge. Speed was behind the Jedi, bringing up the rear. His wound from earlier was not bad, only seeming to give him mild pain and annoyance.

The group had swept several more rooms and hallways, and was now making its way up to a four way cross road of hallways.

"Seems like this place is just all hallways, huh, boss?" Speed said.

The Jedi nodded his agreement. It was rather odd, but none of them knew very much about deep space complexes on asteroids.

Hardhead entered the four way intersection of hallways, and swept his LS-150 all around, sweeping his light down each hallway.

Hardhead spoke, "Which way, sir? Please advise."

Master Dolros walked up beside him, glancing down each hallway. Speed was behind, peering ahead into the hallways.

The Force flared a warning, but as the Jedi Master turned he realized it was too late. From the dark hallway a speeding ball of energy was rushing directly towards him, not even a second away. As it closed the distance he felt himself violently shoved forwards, nearly smashing into a corner of a wall. He heard a grunt of pain and exertion and quickly scrambled to regain his footing, and ignited his lightsaber.

Speed was on the ground, writhing in obvious pain, and convulsing. Beams and crackles of the same grey energy hopped across his body, not to mention the gaping hole that had been left behind in his chest plate. Dolros could feel in the Force the pain that Speed was feeling. He ran to his side, to tend to his wounds.

Hardhead opened fire down the hallway where the shot had come from, and to his relief no more fire came. He was worried about his comrade. They had been brothers for as long as either could remember, sharing such a tight bond as clones. Of course this was not the first time either had been wounded in combat, but it was always a stressful and trying experience. But Hardhead knew he had a job to do, and right now the best way he could help Speed was to lay down suppressing fire as the General tended to his comrade. He gave out an angered yell, frustrated at the situation.

Speed was in bad condition. The wound itself was non-fatal, but critical. It was what was happening to his body that was disconcerting, and something that the Jedi had never seen before. The clone was now screaming in pain, and Dolros could see why. His body was disintegrating right before his eyes, armor, skin, muscle, bone, and all. Wherever the grey energy seemed to leap a small bit seemed to disappear.

Dolros could feel the Force in the clone fading, and fading fast. Above them he could hear and see Hardhead yelling as he fired his heavy repeater. Within two minutes Speed was dead. Not only dead but completely disappeared. The Jedi felt his spirit fade into the Force, hopefully reaching peace.

The Jedi Master stood now, his lightsaber in hand, and tapped Hardhead on the shoulder to tell him to stop firing. The near incessant stream of blaster fire stopped, and for the first time the clone looked down to Speed, only to see a blank space of floor, nothing but the commando's gun left behind.

"He's gone, Hardhead. Completely. I've never seen anything like it?"

Gone? But how could he be gone? All of him, and his armor, just gone without a trace of blood or debris? It didn't make any sense, but Hardhead saw the sincerity in his generals eyes and knew he was telling the truth.

An impassioned shout escaped past his lips. He had been through so much with his squadmates. From training to Geonosis, and countless battlefields and victories together. But now Speed was gone, gone forever. He didn't even have much to remember him by. Hardhead scooped up his fallen comrades gun, and magnetically locked it to his armor. Tears burned in his eyes even as he refused to let them fall.

The Jedi put a hand on his shoulder, and Hardhead felt a little better. His general would lead him through this, and they would reunite with the rest of the squad soon enough.

The general gave Hardhead several gestures and commands, and then crouched by a corner to use his commlink. Hardhead stayed in the intersection of hallways, and kept a vigilant watch.

"Kelsey, Kelsey come in. This is Master Dolros. Speed is dead, and we're up against a weapon I've never seen before. Be careful. Meet us at rendezvous B as soon as possible."

A crackling reply came back. "Yes, Master. Captain Othus has been wounded and needs attention, but it is nonfatal. See you soon." The Padawan sounded subdued to Hardhead, almost definitely because of the sad news from her Master. It was also not good news that the Captain had been injured. This mission seemed to be going down hill, but Hardhead knew the group had dealt with worse, like that mission on Teth a year earlier. That had nearly been disastrous, but thankfully they had all pulled through.

Standing up the Jedi general spoke to Hardhead, "Let's move. We need to regroup." As the Jedi began to walk down the hallway where the shot had come from the clone spoke. "Sir, down there?"

"Yes. It's the only way to rendezvous point B according to the schematics. We need to get there fast." The clone commando nodded his answer.

The two made their way down the hallway extremely cautiously, scanning every shadow and searching through the Force for any life forms. They made it to the end, and entered a room, what appeared to be a small command room of some sort. A locked cabinet stood in the corner, and several datapads were strewn about. The Jedi tucked them away before moving on.

Three hallways and two rooms later the duo found themselves at a dead end, facing a wall that shouldn't exist. As the two poked around it cautiously, trying to find any fault or way to open it a deep and breathy chuckle echoed through the dark hallway. The two spun immediately to face where it had come from.

"You like my new addition? Sorry it screwed up the schematics you stole. Hahaha." The 2 meter frame of Korta Roxe emerged from the shadows, a large and unfamiliar rifle held in his hands. He pulled the trigger, sending another ball of grey energy down the hallway.

"Down!" Dolros yelled, and both he and Hardhead jumped to the floor. The ball of energy splashed into the wall behind them, disintegrating a fist sized portion.

Dolros shoved his hand outwards, using the Force to knock the Shistavanen off balance and tumbling to the ground. While the Separatist assassin recovered both Hardhead and Master Dolros rose to their feet. Hardhead began firing, several shots barely missing Speed's killer.

All of a sudden a rain of red blaster bolts flew down the hallway from behind the Shistavanen, and two more commando droids stepped up next to him, firing their blasters. Master Dolros began using his lightsaber to deflect the shots, as Hardhead crouched to fire more accurately.

Most of the droids shots hit the wall behind them, but it was too much steady fire to return with accurate shots. However, Hardhead managed a lucky head shot on one, dropping it to the floor. A moment later a red bolt glanced off his arm piece, spinning him slightly and leaving a bad burn mark.

"Hardhead!" The general yelled, as he deflected a shot nearly perfectly and almost took off the Shistavanen's head.

"I'm good, sir!" The clone yelled as he raised his repeater and squeezed the trigger, firing wildly and indiscriminately down the hallway. Multiple blasts hit the remaining commando droid, sending it to the floor with its comrade. More blaster bolts sprayed the walls and floor, pinning the assassin down when he tried to line up another shot with his rifle. Soon the heavy repeater clicked empty, out of shots.

"Hardhead, thermal detonator, now!" The Jedi yelled as he used the Force to knock down Korta again to keep him from firing his dreadful weapon.

The clone dropped his repeater, and primed and tossed two thermal detonators down the hallway, grabbing Speed's DC from his belt when he raised his arms again.

The downed Shistavanen had no time to react to the two thermal detonators that had just landed at his feet. Within seconds they detonated even as he tried to scramble away.

His body went flying down the hallway in the opposite direction of the clone and Jedi Master, his fur scorched and burnt. Within moments the two had recovered from the explosion and shockwave and approached the unmoving assassin. Hardhead has his DC drawn, and Dolros had his lightsaber ready. The clone kicked over the body so it was face up, and now Dolros could tell for certain the Separatist had died in the explosion. His spirit faded into the Force, just like Speed's had, and just like Dolros had felt hundreds of spirits do before. He sighed. The war had brought so much violence and death to the galaxy. Jedi were now no longer the peace keepers that they had been, but instead were warriors and generals.

"Hardhead, we need to get to rendezvous point B now. Inform the others that we downed the target and get a status report." The clone saluted as they both walked away from the body and towards the wall that should not have been there. Once more the Jedi Master used his lightsaber to cut a hole through the wall, and the two entered through it. Rendezvous point B was a several minute walk from their position now, provided nothing else had been altered from the schematics.

"We've eliminated the primary target, and are moving to rendezvous point B now. Status report, Commander Kelsey?"

Even after three whole years of war Padawan Kelsey was unsure she would ever get used to being called Commander. She just didn't feel like a military commander, but here she was helping to lead a covert mission on the edge of Wild Space.

"All ships have been destroyed. The Captain is injured, and needs treatment soon, but is stable. Hotshot and I are fine. We are two minutes out from the rendezvous point."

Since the trouble in the dining room they had had no issues, the trio of Hotshot, Captain Othus, and the Padawan moving ahead steadily. It was disconcerting that Death Watch had been involved, but that would be a matter to report to the Jedi Council on Coruscant when they returned and debriefed.

The group made their way to the rendezvous point, what the schematics had shown to be a warehouse storage type area. They found it contained mostly food supplies and large oxygen containers. It had been designated as the rendezvous point not because of its contents or its location, but because it actually concealed the entrance to what would be the extraction point. The asteroid complex had an incredibly large tunnel complex hidden under it, and from the rendezvous point the tunnels could be broken into and used to reach the supply hangar deep below. The complex had two hangars, one which was used for personal shuttles and starfighters, where the Padawan and the commandos had been earlier to destroy the ships, and another where every two months a light freighter would be sent to resupply. It was empty most of the time, and was where a gutted out and refitted B-7 light freighter was waiting courtesy of the Republic Navy. It was a special ship used by the commandos on certain missions. It was not a stealth ship, but it was undetectable to most scanners and sensors and had an upgraded engine and armor. It should be waiting for the team right now.

"Hotshot, let's get the Captain comfortable." Hotshot nodded and set about doing just that. The Captain let out a small growl at being talked about as if he weren't standing right there, but a stab of pain from his chest cut him off.

He was leant up against a box, and Hotshot went about applying another round of bacta spray to his wound. It was not pretty, and would likely leave a pretty gnarly scar even when they were able to treat it.

Padawan Kelsey came and sat next to the Captain. He had taken the news of Speed's death very harshly, as had Hotshot. She could sense anger at themselves for not being there to protect him, sadness and sorrow that Speed was gone, but also frustration that they were powerless to do anything.

The commlink crackled to life again. It was Hardhead again. "Commander Kelsey, we're one minute out. Over."

She replied by clicking the commlink once, acknowledging the transmission. She didn't have much to say right now, it was beginning to set in for her that Speed was truly gone. They had been good friends, she had been closest to him out of any in the squad. It was tough news, but she would have to deal with it later, once they were away from this damned asteroid. She kicked out her feet, huffing in anger and frustration. Captain Othus looked over to her, slight concern in his eyes. She waved him off and got to her feet, calling out. "Hotshot, let's get the Captain ready to move. Master Dolros and Hardhead are almost here!"

"Yes, sir!" Came the obedient and quick response, and a moment later the Captain was on his feet, supported on his left side by Hotshot while Kelsey helped support his right. She could now sense Hardhead and her Master approaching the door to the supply room from down the hall.

Their reunion had not been a happy one. Hugs and handshakes had gone all around, but very few words were spoken. Dolros could sense, just as Kelsey had, that Captain Othus and Hotshot were angry with themselves for not being there. Master Dolros just put a hand on the Captains shoulder, and nodded respectfully. The Captain returned the nod, and understood that the Jedi did not blame either himself nor Hotshot. Casualties were unavoidable in war, and it was miraculous that the squad had gone so long with no deaths at all.

As Master Dolros examined Captain Othus's wound he spoke to the group. "We need to get to the extraction point quickly. He'll be alright, but I do not want to waste any time." The group agreed, and made their way over to a section of the floor with no crates or tanks covering it. The Jedi duo used their lightsabers to cut a hole, the metal plating falling down and clanging on the tunnel floor below.

Hardhead was the first in, his LS-150 reloaded and ready, with his illuminator on. He scanned the area for a moment before giving the all clear. Padawan Kelsey was the next one down, and then Captain Othus, who was lowered down by Kelsey and Dolros. Hotshot came next, and took up a guard post watching the other end of the hallway as Hardhead. Master Dolros was the last one in.

The Weequay Jedi spoke, "Let's move. Its 150 meters down this hallway, then 50 down another to the right, according to the schematics."

He and Hardhead led the group, LS-150 repeater and lightsaber raised. Kelsey took up the rear while Hotshot made sure the Captain was alright. His condition was still stable, but deteriorating. Another round of bacta spray would need to be applied soon.

After several minutes of walking the secure helmet commlinks activated in each of the clone commandos helmets. A second later a transmission began, coming from the Chancellor's private channel. "Execute Order 66." Was heard through three different helmets, but only to the clones. The Jedi did not hear it said.

"Execute Order 66."

Hardhead stopped in his tracks. Order 66? What was Order 66? Then it hit him.

Springing forth from the back of his mind he immediately knew what it was. It was the emergency protocol in case the Jedi Order ever tried to usurp the Republic and take command for themselves.

It was almost inconceivable to him that the Jedi would do such a thing, but in the split second since the order was issued it made sense. They had bred the clones for war, controlling them, sacrificing them by the thousand to win their battles. It made sense to him that they might try and take power.

With a heavy heart at what must be done Hardhead turned, and raised his LS-150, bringing it to bear on the Jedi Master now slightly in front of him. The Jedi was just now turning, a look of confusion on his face, and a question as to why Hardhead had stopped walking on his lips. Hardhead pulled the trigger, sending a volley of point blank blaster bolts at the Jedi. It had been about five seconds since the Order was issued.

Jedi Master Dolros turned. He had been leading the group to the extraction point, it was only another 50 meters down this hallway and then another 50 down another hallway. But for some reason Hardhead, who was beside him, had quit walking.

And that was why Dolros turned. He was just beginning to ask what was wrong when he saw the clone commando raise his rifle. The Jedi's confusion doubled. His confusion doubled again when the Force gave him a split second warning that the clone fully intended to kill him. It was unbelievable that the clone would try to kill him! But through a lifetime of service and meditation and trying to understand what the Force was trying to tell him Jedi Master Dolros trusted the Force implicitly. He was sure it would not lead him wrong, no matter how unbelievable it's warning was.

Mind still swimming in confusion and doubt Master Dolros made sure he was in a good defensive stance. He didn't want to believe what the Force had warned him of, but he had to prepare for it to be true.

It took just a moment for his doubt to be silenced. Three blaster bolts leapt from Hardheads LS-150, and in the close quarters combat inside the tunnel it was very difficult to block them. But block them he did, with the use of the Force and his fast reflexes. A quick Force Push sent the clone careening into the tunnel wall behind him, a crunching noise bouncing through the tunnel. Hardhead slumped to the ground, unmoving.

"Execute Order 66."

Hotshot stopped walking. He was confused. He had never heard of any 'Order 66' and he wasn't sure what it meant. The Chancellor had ordered it though, and it must be obeyed.

In a mere moment the information came to mind. Order 66 was the backup in case the Jedi tried to overthrow the Republic and take power for themselves. And it made sense to Hotshot. He realized now how terrible the Jedi had been. They went from world to world imposing their will and forcing planets to break their sovereignty and join the Republic. It was sickening. Almost as sickening as forcing the clones to fight and die for them. The clones did not serve the Jedi only. They served the Republic, and only served the Jedi because they were part of the Republic. But now, because the Jedi had tried to seize power, they were no longer part of the Republic, but rather were active enemies of the Chancellor and the Galactic Republic. And Hotshot knew exactly how to deal with the Republic's enemies.

In front of him Hardhead quit walking next to Master Dolros. Hotshot saw him bring his weapon up to bear even as the Jedi turned around. Three shots leapt from Hardheads weapon, but the Weequay Jedi's lightning fast reflexes saved his life. The three shots were all deflected, and a quick shove of his hand has sent Hardhead flying into the wall, a crunching noise echoing through the tunnel. Hotshot's HUD read that it was still receiving vitals from Hardhead, but that he had been knocked unconscious.

Hotshot raised his own rifle, his sniper pattern DC, and fired twice at the Jedi Master. One bolt was blocked, but one hit it's mark, slamming into the Jedi's arm. The force from the impact made the Jedi spin, opening him up for another attack. Two more shots followed, one hitting his other arm, the other his chest. The Jedi sank to his knees and his lightsaber clattered to the tunnel floor. The chest wound was serious, very serious. Hotshot heard a scream from behind him. It could only be the Padawan learner. He would deal with her after he executed the Jedi in front of him.

Beside him Hotshot could no longer see Captain Othus he was so focused on executing Order 66. It turned out to be a mistake as he began to line up a killshot on the Jedi Master he felt double impacts slam into his ribcage.

"Execute Order 66."

Captain Othus stopped walking. The command had come from the Chancellor himself, so it had to be obeyed. But what was Order 66, Captain Othus asked himself? Then he remembered.

It was the contingency order to be given in case the Jedi ever attempted to take control of the Senate and Galactic Republic. But for the Order to be given then that meant the Jedi had turned against the Republic, against what they had fought for for three long years, and had served for for millennia.

Captain Othus had heard it all before, whispered conversations in hushed tones among the troopers that maybe, just maybe, the Jedi were using the clones without a care in the galaxy as to their safety or wellbeing. And Othus would be lying if he said he had never had a similar thought. Clones died in the thousands, sometimes that many in a single battle, but did the Jedi ever seem to care?

No, he thought. No they did not. Captain Othus withdrew his two pistols. But as he was preparing to raise them and fire on the Jedi he had a thought. The Jedi _did_ care. They cared so much. But they couldn't care _all_ of the time for _every_ single clone. With millions of clones and only thousands of Jedi that was impossible. And now that he thought about it Master Dolros and Padawan Kelsey had _always_ cared about him and his squad, many times putting their lives on the line so the clones would be safer. The Captain could think of a dozen times that Dolros had personally saved his life.

But was that just because the Jedi needed the clones to fight their war?

No. Captain Othus knew that couldn't be true. The Jedi were not using the clones, at least not without caring.

Several seconds had passed. Captain Othus saw Hardhead and Hotshot stop walking. Hardhead raised his weapon and fired a trio of bolts just as Master Dolros turned to speak to him. In an incredible display of skill and aptitude the Jedi blocked all three shots even at point blank range, and sent Hardhead into the tunnel wall with the Force. His HUD still showed life signs from Hardhead. The Captain tried to shout an order to stand down, but searing pain in his chest stopped him.

Captain Othus dropped to the side of the tunnel, and slid down the wall, both pistols still in his hands. He was shocked that Hardhead could just throw away such a bond with Master Dolros and fire on him. It hurt his heart. He saw Hotshot raise his sniper configured DC and fire off two shots of his own at the Jedi Master. One was deflected, which Othus observed in his silent shock. He was still in lots of pain from his chest wound, and it was getting worse by the minute.

One of the two shots hit the Jedi in the arm, sending him on a half spin. Two more shots from Hotshot hit the Jedi, one more in the other arm and one in the chest. Captain Othus knew he had to do something as he saw the Jedi fall to his knees and drop his lightsaber. Othus heard a scream from his side somewhere behind him. It sounded like the Padawan.

He raised his arms, a pistol in each hand, and squeezed each trigger. The first two shots hit Hotshot in the rib cage from below, Hotshot squeezed off a shot at the kneeling Jedi which went wide, flying down the tunnel. Two more blaster bolts hit Hotshot in the chest, followed by two more. It hurt Captain Othus to have to do this, it hurt him in his soul. But he knew he had to to protect Master Dolros and his Padawan. It was the right thing to do.

Captain Othus served the Republic, and had his entire life, and would continue to serve the Republic until the day he died. But he could not serve the Republic if that meant killing the Jedi, because he knew there was no way the Jedi would betray the Republic. But now not only Hotshot but Hardhead too had failed to realize that the Jedi would never betray the Republic and had instead turned their backs on the Jedi and Captain Othus.

Hotshot sank to the ground, Othus's HUD reading that his vital signs were now dropping quickly. With another dual trigger press they were eked out entirely, and the commando Captain felt sick to his stomach. His chest wound burned painfully as he rose to his feet and looked around the tunnel.

Padawan Kelsey was having a bad day. The mission had started off alright, but had gotten complicated rather quickly. She never liked when the squad had to split up and she had to be away from her Master, but she figured that was just part of life as a Jedi. She would have to learn to let go of attachment soon enough, if she ever wanted to be a full fledged Jedi Knight.

Speed's death had hit her hard, doubly so because nothing except his blaster had been recovered. What kind of terrible weapon could disintegrate a whole body, armor and all? It's something only the cruel Separatists and their assassins would use, surely. But at least the mission had gone smoothly since then. They had rendezvoused without problem and had made it into the tunnel safely. They were only several minutes away from the extraction point.

But that was when everything had gone to hell.

First Hotshot, Hardhead, and Captain Othus all stopped walking at once, hands up to their helmets like they were receiving a transmission on the commlink. She checked her own, but heard nothing at all. Then, seconds later, Hardhead raised his heavy repeater and fired on her Master. She had yelled a warning, but it did not matter. Her master had reacted with lightning speed in the cramped tunnel, blocking the shots. She didn't know why Hardhead had attacked him, but she was glad when he was sent flying into the wall and crumpled into a heap.

She had not moved an inch since the situation began, frozen in shock. She felt her heart squeeze when she saw Hotshot raise his weapon. He fired two shots. One was deflected, the other was not, hitting Dolros's arm. Two more shots came, one hitting her Master's other arm and the other hitting his chest.

As she saw her Master sink to his knees Padawan Kelsey began to scream. She still had not moved, shock freezing her muscles in place. She was so confused. How could Hardhead do that? And how could Hotshot? He was going to kill Master Dolros? Or at least he was, Kelsey saw, until Captain Othus intervened.

He was slumped against the wall, just a few meters away from Hotshot. Kelsey saw as Hotshot raised his rifle to get the kill, and fear struck her. Relief flooded her body, but came with more confusion, as Captain Othus fired his pistols into Hotshot's ribs, and then into his chest, and then into his chest once more. Hotshot fell to the ground, now even with Captain Othus. Two more bolts leapt from the pistols and slammed into Hotshots chest. If Padawan Kelsey had been focusing she would have felt his spirit leave his body and enter the Force. But she was not focusing.

She saw Captain Othus rise, and turn towards her. His pistols were still in his hands, but were not aimed at her. Still, fear gripped her heart and she lifted her lightsaber, ready to attack him if need be. He dropped his pistols, and raised his hands in a non-threatening gesture. His chest wound was obviously not in good shape.

It was now that a weak and wet cough was heard from the end of the hallway. Both Kelsey and the commando Captain turned and sprinted to the Weequay Jedi. He was on his hands and knees, blaster marks on each arm, and was weakly coughing blood onto the tunnel floor.

The Captain reached him first, gently helping him up to a sitting position. The Jedi spat a bit of blood, but looked gratefully towards the captain. Kelsey was at his other side shortly. She could now feel, through their strong bond, that the Force was leaving his body alongside his life force.

Tears welled in her eyes, even as her Master turned to face her. Blood ran down in thin lines from his mouth, over his cracked and dry Weequay skin. A tear rolled down her cheek, and he wiped it off, even that slight movement paining him.

"Do not worry, Padawan... I can feel in the Force that the times are changing, and that you must be strong... Always know your duty, but never forget what is right. Times will be hard. You will not know who to trust. You must trust in Captain Othus... He will keep you safe along your way. You must finish your training, Kelsey, and I deeply regret that I can not be there to see you become a Knight." His speech was marked by pauses to spit blood or struggle to breath, but it was no less meaningful to Kelsey, who was nodding as he spoke. She took every word to heart, feeling in the Force that he meant every word and that every word was true.

He cupped her chin, before turning his attention to Captain Othus. He spoke once more, "Captain, I know not what has happened to the Republic, but you know your duty... Keep her safe, and keep yourself safe... I must be going now, goodbye old friends." The Captain nodded, standing up straight and giving a full salute, even despite the burning pain. Kelsey grabbed the Jedi's hand, refusing to believe that he was leaving this life. But moments later she was forced to believe it as his spirit left his body. A tear rolled down her cheek, hitting the tunnel floor. It would just be the first of many.

Just as Captain Othus turned to speak to the Padawan, to tell her that they must be moving onwards, the situation changed again. Neither had noticed that in the past few moments Hardhead had regained consciousness.

With a sprint and a shout Hardhead charged the Padawan, slamming her into the wall, knocking the breath out of her. It took a second for her mind to clear from the hard hit and the air to return to her lungs. A punch landed on her ribs, another hard hit. She gathered herself enough to react, using the Force to push Hardhead away, and also igniting her lightsaber.

Almost simultaneously she swung the lightsaber at Hardhead, while Captain Othus fired his pistols. The lightsaber sliced into Hardhead as the blaster bolts slammed into him. He sunk to the ground, dead, as the smell of burnt ozone filled the air.

"He's dead." Captain Othus stated the obvious. Kelsey nodded in response.

The Captain spoke again. "We need to get moving, immediately." Again Kelsey nodded. The two walked along in silence, down the tunnel and then turning down the other tunnel. They were only 10 meters from the blast door entrance to the supply hangar when the Captain motioned for her to stop.

"Look, Commander, the clones have been given orders to destroy all Jedi. I don't know what's going on, but it came from the chancellor himself. I'm afraid that all clones will be trying to kill you on sight."

Kill on sight? Why the hell would they do that, Kelsey thought absently. She was reeling from the loss of her Master. She just nodded.

"I want you to wait here. I'm going to go see if the ship is here, and I'll deal with any clones on board if I have to. Understand?" Kelsey nodded again, and the Captain noted that her eyes seemed to look past him, not at him. He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently as he readied his pistols and opened the blast door.

The B-7 light freighter was waiting exactly where it was supposed to be. It was black, all black, and was a familiar sight to Captain Othus. He and his squad had used it in nearly half a dozen missions.

The entry ramp lowered with a hiss of steam, and a white armored clone trooper jogged out, a DC-15A clutched in his hands. He stood at attention for the Captain, and spoke, "Sir, extraction vessel _Ashaton_ is ready for launch. Is the rest of your squad coming?"

"No. I'm all that's left." The Captain replied as he approached the ramp. He still had a pistol in each hand.

The clone nodded, "Yes, sir! Has Order 66 been executed?"

The Captain sighed, shaking his head. "The Padawan escaped. We will leave her here to die."

The clone trooper spoke, "Forgive me sir, but should we not make sure that she is dead?"

Captain Othus barked a response, "She will die here, cold and alone once we destroy the life support systems. Lead the way, trooper." The trooper turned to lead the Captain up the ramp into the _Ashaton_.

Captain Othus sighed. The clone trooper obviously had no problem with killing the Padawan, even suggesting that they hunt her down. He was clearly like Hardhead and Hotshot, and wished to fulfill Order 66 completely. The commando raised his pistol, firing a point blank shot into the back of the troopers head. It was a dirty thing, to kill a man from behind, but sometimes it must be done. Othus easily recalled what Master Dolros's last order to him had been.

The Captain walked up the ramp and into the B-7. He rounded a corner, walking down the hallway to the cockpit with his pistols drawn and ready. There was no door, and the Captain could see the pilot as he prepared the freighter for launch.

"Pilot?" Othus asked. The pilot turned, just in time to see a pair of raised pistols aimed at his face, and a bright blue flash. His body crumpled to the ground, two neat holes blown into his helmet.

It took Captain Othus several minutes to drag the two clone bodies out of and away from the _Ashaton_. He was moving slowly because of his wound. He clicked the commlink active.

"Commander, the area is safe now." He received no response, but moments later Commander Kelsey walked through. He greeted her at the ramp, helping her up and into a seat in the passenger compartment.

He spoke to her before he left, "Commander, I will be in the cargo bay if you need me." She nodded.

Once he was satisfied that she was safe the Captain went to the cargo bay. It was nearly empty, but for several crates of weaponry, armor, and medical supplies. A small medical bay was present, with only a small cot and miniature bacta tank mounted to the wall. It took up about half the space inside the cargo bay, the assorted cargo and supplies taking up the other half.

Captain Othus strapped himself in to the miniature bacta tank, localizing it around his chest. It soon went to work, and he almost immediately felt better. He would require several hours inside the tank, and would still be left with a nasty scar most likely.

It was one hour into his stay in the tank when Commander Kelsey came into the cargo bay. She said nothing, a haunted look still in her eyes. She sat down across from the Captain, watching as the bacta slowly knitted his wound back together, leaving behind pink scar tissue.

The Captain watched her. He was worried about her. He had never seen her so in shock, but he supposed she had a good reason for it. She had just watched a squad of clones she had known throughout the entire war and had developed a close bond with kill her Jedi Master, who she also had developed an incredibly close bond with. It was as if her siblings, her older brothers, had turned on each other and killed their father, only for the eldest brother to turn on his own siblings. Her world had been thrown upside down and stomped on, and Captain Othus did not envy her.

His world was shaken too, but he was a soldier, and he knew how to deal with shock and trauma. He was afraid that the Padawan was not quite so experienced with death. Of course over the last three years she had seen plenty of death, but never experienced quite so close or so devastatingly all at once.

"Commander? Are you alright?" He asked after several minutes.

She took a moment to respond, simply shaking her head no.

"Death comes for us all. It's something we have to deal with."

The Padawan's blue eyes met the Captain's dark brown eyes. Tears formed in her eyes once again.

"But how?" She asked, her voice quite.

The Captain thought for a minute. He wasn't very good at dealing with these situations. It was actually the first time he had ever been in a situation like this. He was a soldier, one of the best of the best, he didn't have time to think about life or death. But now, for the first time in his accelerated life, he thought about what it meant to die and what it meant to live.

"I guess that's what we have to figure out, Commander."

**The End**

This was the first story I've done for a long while, but I really enjoyed writing it. I knocked it out mostly in about two sessions. I'm back to working on the next chapter of my Night is Long Rewrite, so if you like that story that some good news. I have another Warhammer 40k story planned too, but I'm feeling like I'm starting a lot of stories without really finishing them.

Let me know if you want this short story series to continue/ what you think of this one/ the first one. I really enjoyed this and I think that the characters are cool and could be developed some more. Depending on the feedback I might do another short story in this installment.

Have a good day, y'all.


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